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The sweet scent of fresh raspberries tickled his senses when she drew close, her fingers gently brushing up his chest in a shock of sensation.
“I’m not leaving, Riaz.”
Emotion, so heavy and thick it caught in his throat, bubbling out of him in a low whimper. Closing his eyes, he savored the feel of her hand against his bare skin, the warmth of her fingers as they lightly played against the panes of his rigid abdomen.
And for a moment, he allowed himself to fall into her willing embrace, to cherish the confession before it all inevitably went down in flames around him.
Desire was molten in his veins, the unfaltering urge to enclose her into his arms and show her exactly what she’d been missing.
“Riaz, look at me.” Her voice was soft, softer than he’d ever heard it. When he acquiesced, eyes of deepest brown caught his. “I’m not leaving you.”
The canine whimper that rumbled in his chest was entirely that of his wolf, and Cortana didn’t miss it. Immediately, her arms wrapped around him, her strength tempered in the cinching embrace. He wanted to collapse into her, to revel in the safety she provided.
But he couldn’t—not if he didn’t know her true intentions. Not if he didn’t know if she’d complete the mating.
“Why do you fear solitude?” A mere whisper. “Why won’t you go on a run alone?”
Everything he feared and boxed up suddenly came ramming back into focus. Flashbacks of that fated night when he first shifted seeped into his mind, both the rejection of his family and the crushing solitude that resulted from it.
A tremor wracked his frame, his wolf thrashing within him. Fearful for Cortana’s safety, he stepped away from his mate. Her fingers gently cinched around his wrist, pulling him to a halt before releasing him.
“Please, Riaz. Please tell me.”
Swallowing harshly, he collapsed onto the black sofa nearest them, pressing his palms into his eyes as he tried to wrap his head around her request. Before he could speak, she did.
“The comb was a gift from my late fiancé.”
Jolting, Riaz pivoted to look at her where she’d landed next to him. Back ramrod straight, her dark eyes focused on the floor beneath their feet, lost to memories long-since passed.
“Aeneas and I grew up together, thick as thieves,” she began. “We were the best of friends, and constantly by each other’s side. When I was young, I was a vane creature, obsessed with how I appeared to society and making sure I always had the latest fashions.”
She chuckled, then sobered. “That all changed when I was diagnosed with a withering sickness mere months after I turned twenty-three. Aeneas loved my hair, even when it started falling out, and gifted me that comb to make me feel pretty again. Drake, one my father’s business contacts, heard of my predicament and offered me immortality.
“Aeneas stayed by my side throughout the ordeal, celebrating with me when I ‘miraculously recovered,’” she said.
Riaz instantly felt his heart soften, appreciating the other man for holding her together through what must’ve been a difficult circumstance. “He was a good friend.”
Cortana gave a bittersweet grin and nodded. “He knew what I was but didn’t hold it against me. He was a friend in the truest sense, a lover shortly after. When I was diagnosed, his parents sought to cut off the engagement, but Aeneas stayed true to me, and I counted my blessings.”
He almost didn’t want to ask. “What happened?”
“For months after I turned vampire, Drake incessantly schooled me on control and the necessity of maintaining strong boundaries between feeding and passion. The two weren’t mutually exclusive, however, and pleasure from one often morphed into pleasure from the other. I wanted to give Aeneas the pleasure of being bitten, to give him that gift, but …”
She stopped, her emotion brimming in her eyes and cascading down her cheeks. “I took too much from him, Riaz. Aeneas died because I didn’t stop. I lost myself to the feed, greedy for blood and loving that it was his.
“What started as an act of love turned into something very different. He’d been sifting his fingers through my hair at the start, and then he began to pull at it, trying to tell me I was drinking too fast … but I was too young, too enthralled with his blood,” she whispered, guilt twisting her features. “Slowly, he stopped struggling, and the thing that I can remember thinking? Finally.”
“Oh, Cort.”
“When I eventually regained control, I realized he’d collapsed against me,” she sobbed. “His hands had fallen away, hanging at his sides with pieces of my hair coiled around his fingers.”
A low, wailing cry left her, and Riaz swiftly wrapped her in his arms, a circle of protection that he could only hope would help her.
Pulling her against his chest, he kept clear of her hair, knowing now why she’d been so averse to him touching it. The story behind the small treasure made his heart hurt.
“I’m so sorry, Cortana.”
A sniffle, her fingertips coming up the rest delicately against the muscle over his heart. She sighed, and with it, felt the weight of the world coming off her shoulders.
